


Never again

by sienna



Category: Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Developing Relationship, Gen, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 22:29:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/602781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sienna/pseuds/sienna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q is hurt and Bond has to take care of him. </p>
<p>Or in other words, Bond realises Q makes an awful patient.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never again

**Author's Note:**

> This was from a prompt off tumblr. 
> 
> 'Q is hurt and Bond has to take care of him.' However I think I may have drifted off that original prompt and turned it into something else.
> 
> Apologises if you find the switch between 007 and Bond confusing. I might need to keep that in mind when I'm writing.
> 
> Thank you to my lovely minion Lincsque for the beta. *A*

"You're a bloody idiot…"

"And you're an insufferable twat," Q replied, without looking up from the laptop screen. "But thank you." He took the proffered mug from Bond.

He heard Bond sigh as if saying, what did I do to deserve this?

He watched as Bond disappeared off to the kitchen and then reappeared a moment later with a cup of coffee.

It'd been a month and three days since the events of Skyfall and M's death.

To think that Silva had been desperate, to think that he cared nothing for bringing about the death of six agents, that everything had merely been a selfish desire to break M, to make her pay for abandoning him all those years ago. No one had saw it coming. 

Q felt as if he had played a part in M's death. No one in MI6 voiced his guilt out loud; if anything they had been quick to reassure that he played no role, that it was Silva who had killed her and that he shouldn't feel responsible for that. But Q knew that it was him who had let Silva escape, he who had allowed Silva to hack into M16 and taunt him. If Silva hadn't escaped, M would still be alive. The knowledge of that fact was a bitter blow to his pride, both as a professional and as MI6’s Quartermaster.

_Not such a clever boy._

That someone else had outsmarted him at his own game, that was a thought that hadn’t ceased to cause a flare of irritation within. Q drummed his fingers against his thigh, trying to forget the insulting words, Silva had mocked him with so long ago.

And then, as if the Silva debacle wasn’t enough, he just happened to get into an accident shortly after which resulted in a twisted ankle.

So, Q was currently stuck in his flat for two weeks under strict doctor’s orders. He would have ignored them and continued to work, because a twisted ankle didn't mean he couldn't type or carry out his duties perfectly. But M had intervened and ordered him to take it easy and stay at home. He had even suggested for Q to delegate some of his duties to other members of Q-branch.

Currently, Q was in the middle of constructing another firewall for MI6's systems. The fact that Silva had slipped in so easily had been a severe lesson and one Q took to heart. He took another sip of tea, trying in vain to forget that particular memory and let his mind drift to other things, like why M had decided to allow Bond to look after him.

Q wasn't sure if it was because M felt that Bond needed some time off field duty, especially after the events of Skyfall, and that it wouldn't do if Bond should disappear off the face of the earth entirely.

If that had been M’s goal, he achieved it for Bond strolled back into the room Q currently occupied, casual as you please and removed his jacket, folded it and placed it over the armrest before sitting down near Q, who watched him warily, coffee in hand. 

"So," Q said slowly, pushing his glasses up. 

Bond paused before he took a sip and raised an eyebrow.

"How is that you're here and not on field duty, 007?"

Bond placed the mug down on the coaster. Q hadn’t even realised he had coasters.

"M thought I needed a change of scenery," Bond replied calmly.

Ah, Q thought. Although it didn’t quite explain why Bond was here, looking after him. Q took a sip from his own mug, studying Bond over its rim.

Skyfall had changed Bond. The death of M seemed to weigh heavily on him, but he was careful not to show it, as if trying to pretend that he was still sane, still whole and definitely not broken.

Q had only just discovered the results of Bond's physical and psychological tests. He was a bit upset at only having the opportunity to go through them now, since they offered such a rare insight into the puzzle that was Bond. Those test results also might provide possible explanations as to why M would deem Bond fit for field work, when he clearly wasn’t. Of course, Q had read all the other reports about Bond prior to meeting him, but it was still strange.

He took another sip, swallowed, and placed the mug down. After a few minutes of frowning at several lines of coding and algorithms, he looked up to see Bond studying him.

"007?" Q suddenly wished he had something to distract Bond with, silently cursing M for assigning Bond to him all over again.

At Q branch, he at least had gadgets Bond could play with while Q did his job, trusting that Bond wouldn't hurt himself. Here, however, there was nothing to distract Bond with. Even the presence of the telly had only amused him for a few minutes earlier on when he flipped through all the channels once before he turned it off.

Bond raised an amused eyebrow.

"Dinner," Q blurted out before he paused to clear his throat as Bond gave him a blank look as if asking, excuse me?

"It's nearly dinner,” Q tried again, “Do you think we could have curry? I know of a good place which makes good dosa and tikka masala."

"Alright." Bond stood up and picked up his jacket and shrugged into it. "What would you like?"

"Hmm," Q said switching tabs on his browser. "Just the chicken tikka masala, please."

He looked up to see Bond staring down at him or rather the tab he had just opened up.

"New designs for my weapons?" Bond asked.

"Yes," Q replied. "If you knew how much hard work and stress went into it, you wouldn’t wonder why I keep reminding you to bring them back."

"That was only one time and the dragon ate it. I couldn't kill the dragon to retrieve it, could I?"

"I rather not hear excuses, 007." Q pushed his glasses up and picked up his mug. 

"So, does that mean I will get an exploding pen?" Bond smirked.

"No," Q said tersely. "That means you better go and get our orders."


End file.
